


Foreign Bodies

by KipRussel



Series: Mind Full [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies), Pacific Rim Uprising - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 19:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14195799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KipRussel/pseuds/KipRussel
Summary: An exploration of fears that surface after the events of Uprising. Emotions flare as fears rise. (Set before Glass Half Full)





	Foreign Bodies

Newt was rightly terrified.

He finally knew that someone...some _things_ were in his head. Making him do everything he didn’t want to. And he couldn’t do anything about it. They had won him an isolated, unfamiliar room where he sat cuffed at the arms and legs.

What could he do? What had he done?

_What had he done?_

The panic tightened in his throat. His thoughts were racing, too fast to follow any. His nails tried to dig into the metal armrest as he tried to move, curl up, leave, _anything_. He didn’t know anymore. He let kaiju through. Kaiju were in his head. How do you fight what’s in your head? _What were they going to do to him?_ He started to hyperventilate.

Where even _was_ this? A chair. He couldn’t move. It was so bright. The room was round, with things-- buttons?-- on the walls. Was this a cell? A medical room? What would the PPDC do to someone with Precursors in his head? What would they do to the man who just nearly destroyed the world? _What were they going to do to him?_

His ribs felt like they were squeezing his lungs. Or the chair was. He was stuck. He needed to breathe. He needed help, he needed to talk to someone, where was--

“Hermann!” Newt shouted. “Anybody! Please! What’s-- can someone just-- _what’s happening?_ ” He didn’t know if anyone could hear him. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been-- I really don’t know--” he took a shaking breath, trying to ignore his aching throat, swallowing a sob. “I don’t know what’s happening.” The urgency hit him again. “ _I don’t know what’s happening!”_ Newt yelled, pulling against the cuffs, his whole head a cocktail mix of anger and panic and alien influence.

Hermann tumbled into the room, still clutching a data pad to his side, the live feed of the cell still open on the screen. He had run as fast as he could, leg be damned. “Newton?” Hermann asked, trying to regain his breath, trying to quell his hopes that the Precursors in his friend’s head might be gone.

Newt blinked. He felt like his consciousness had slipped backwards, like someone had just taken control and internalized him, had him retreat inside himself, moved his view into darkness and control out of mind and reach.

Hermann watched with fascinated horror as Newt’s expression changed from a twisted, anxious panic to calm, collected, malicious pride in a blink. Newt’s whole demeanor changed: his body relaxed, his shoulders lowered, he sat straighter, his expression and eyes were darker. He leveled a stare right at Hermann and smirked as the scientist shifted uncomfortably.

“See?” Newt, now fully controlled by the Precursor hosts in his head. “See, this is the weakness I’m talking about. Him begging of you. ‘Hermann, somebody, help me!’” they mocked. Hermann's face twisted and his heart dropped. The Precursors laughed. It was scratchy, triumphant, taunting laugh. Hermann looked down at his feet, adjusting his cane in his hand. “But _you_? Talk about a downer, am I right? You, and all the other scientists and staff. _Scrambling_ to cobble something together, scraping for some sort of plan, running around like a pack of animals. You can’t even do anything.”

  
Hermann took a breath and lifted his eyes to meet the Precursor’s gaze. “We can—“

 _“_ ** _YOU CAN'T!_ ** ” The Precursors’ dark voice rattled the room. Hermann ducked low, shrinking back toward the door. A look of anger and...fear? flashed across Newt’s face. He quickly regained his composure, gritting his teeth. “ _Alright?_ None of you can.”

Hermann slowly drew to full height again as a realization dawned on him. A grin grew across his face. “ _Oh_.” Newt shifted in his seat. “You.” Hermann moved closer to the chair, waving a finger. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

Newt tried to scoff. “Of course he is. Look at what you’re doing to him.”

Hermann leaned on his cane, shaking his head. “No, not Newt. _You_. All of you.” The Precursors hesitated just a moment. Drawing in a breath. Eyes flicking away to the floor, then back to Hermann with a new facade of confidence. 

“Why on Earth would you even think that?” they laughed. Hermann leaned in closer. Newt curled up his fingers, but did his best not to break and shrink away. Hermann searched Newt’s eyes-- the Precursors’ eyes-- for a moment. He found what he wanted, then nodded, and straightened back up. “What are you doing?” Newt laughed.

“We’re getting him out of there. _You_ aren’t strong enough.” 

The Precursors scoffed as Hermann turned on his heel and headed for the door, being careful not to show any hurt on his face until he turned away. Newt was scared. It ached to see the Precursors doing that to his friend. But… 

“We’d love to see you try!”

They were terrified. And he couldn’t wait to use that to send them _running_.

“I’ll see you soon, Newton.” Hermann let the door slam shut, cutting the sound of the laughter in the cell short. The Precursors slammed Newt’s fists down on the armrests with a shout, then relinquished control of their host. Newt slipped back into himself. He blinked a few times against the light.

Had he fallen asleep? Was he dreaming? His eyes shot around the room. Alone. How could he do this by himself? 

A dream danced just on the edge of his thoughts. Or was it a memory? It was too fuzzy, too far. Hermann was there. Fighting for him. And he wasn’t alone. _You are alone,_ echoed a voice in his head. _I’m alone_. Newt dug deep, holding on to the memory. _I am not_ , he thought back. _So just shut up_.

 The voice went quiet. Newt let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. He relaxed his white-knuckled hands, letting go of the armrests. He must’ve had a nightmare. 

Newt felt his eyelids grow heavy as sleep began to take hold of his mind. Exhaustion swept over him.

  
“See you soon,” he muttered to the empty room. _Shut up,_ the voice echoed back to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I have to note, that if you are seeing some similarities between my writing and cosmicaeronuat, that's because cosmic's my bff (drift compatible tbh, we keep pitching nearly the same ideas to each other at the same time) and we bounce our ideas off each other. I super recommend cosmic's PacRim Uprising fic, ghost drift. It's three chapters, soon to be six, and it's positively fantastic.


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